Alright guys, new story! I was going to wait to post this one, but given all the quarantine stuff going on, I decided to go ahead.
If you follow me on Twitter ( 4ever1stLovesFF) you already have an idea of what it's about ;)
This fic will be AH/AU, with no supernatural elements, and I like the way it's turning out so far, so hopefully ya'll do to!
Anyway, DISCLAIMER and all that, and I hope everyone enjoys!
"This is what is going to happen..."
Bradly Cabbot was lifted to his feet by two pairs of steady arms before his face was firmly introduced to one of the brick walls that made up the small alleyway he'd been forcefully dragged into.
The pain that shot up his head was mild compared to the right hook he'd been given only minutes before, and the jagged clay sliced into his cheek.
"My associates are going to hurt you for what you've done," the slightly accented voice speaking to him was as dark as the night that surrounded the four men, and as cold as the blade that was suddenly pressed against his back, "A lot."
"I'm sorry!" Bradly sputtered out, "Whatever I did-I-I'm so sorry, please, god, please!"
A quick sting told him the knife's edge had dug a little deeper into his lumbar curve and his pleas were paired with a wretched sob, "Whatever it is, I'm sorry!"
"Sorry?" That calculated tone rose and the ground, wet from recent rain, sloshed as the leader of this attack stepped forward.
He was spun around without warning, though the hands of the man's "associates" never lost their grip.
With his back against the cold brick and the knife now pressed to his julgar, Bradly was met with the face of his aggressor.
Surprise registered, though if that was from the shock of the night's events or the man's appearance, it was hard to tell.
The head honcho had sounded downright evil, but the man that accompanied the voice was like something out of a movie.
Tall, hair so dark it appeared black, and eyes the color of the fucking ocean, he seemed more like an out of place starlet than the orchestrator of a shakedown.
But even so, there was something in the sinister smile the man gave that ran a chill down Bradly's spine.
Whatever the fancy clothes and panty-dropping face may hint otherwise, this guy was dangerous.
There was a darkness in his gaze that had nothing to do with the late hour.
"You're sorry?" the pretty man asked, getting all nice and cozy in Bradly's personal bubble, until the guy's lips were almost pressed against his ear.
"True as that may be, apologies don't interest me when my merchandise comes back to work with a bruised neck and a busted lip."
Wait...what?
"This...this is about Andie?!"
That dumb slut was the reason he was getting thrown around?!
What the fuck?!
"Look, whatever she told you, that bitch is lying! I didn't touch-" the man slapped his cheek, cutting off the sentence.
"Do not waste your breath lying to me," he warned, "My patience is very limited."
Bradly swallowed, "I..okay, maybe I was a little rough with her, but I didn't do nothing that she didn't-"
This time the man's hand went behind his back and it returned with a pistol, which he leveled between Bradly's eyes.
"Ohgodohgodohgod," the words came out in a rush as his knees buckled, and only the hands holding him in place kept him from doubling over.
"We're going to try this again," the leader leaned forward and grabbed Bradly's chin with his free hand, forcing it up so that their eyes met, "Andie is one of my biggest earners, and while she is entitled to her personal life, I will not have it affecting her work. So here's the deal," those blue eyes narrowed and the gun clicked, "If she comes in again with any kind of mark; even one little hair out of place, I'm holding you personally responsible. And this little encounter tonight will feel like a picnic once I'm done. Do I make myself clear?"
Bradly nodded with vigor.
Andie was hot, but no pussy was worth dying for; especially a mouthy one who whored herself out.
"Good," the man smiled in that sinister way again and slapped his palm against Bradly's cheek before straightening and disappearing his gun behind his back, "Then you and I are finished here."
Somehow, he didn't quite feel relieved, and understood why when the man added, "I'll leave you with my men to make sure the message really sticks. One of them will drop you off at the hospital when they're through."
Bradly's eyes bulged as that knife was brought back to his skin.
He began to sputter more pleas, but the man turned away, heading out of the alley.
"There were seven bruises," he called back, his tone almost bored now, "That's how many fingers you can leave him with...and I want you to ensure that he won't talk."
"You got it, Boss," the minion on Bradly's right answered, then turned his attention to the job at hand.
Any cry Bradly may have sounded as the pain really started, was lost to the nightlife of the city buzzing around them, completely unaware.
It's just a fucking necklace, Elena couldn't help but think to herself as she settled further into the office style chair opposite her contractor's solid oak desk.
The man's wealth and entitlement was like a foul scent in her nose as he boasted on about his latest acquisition.
"Real rubies too," he held up the chained trinket to show her.
Jewels had never held much interest for her, personally, but she could admit that there was a certain charm to the piece.
Round and engraved, with red sparkling stones shining under the office fluorescents.
"The stones were, of course, Coleman's selling point," the man carried on with that same sense of self importance, "He wanted nearly $200,000 for this little darling, but I quickly set him straight with an appraisal! He became reasonable at last and I saved a good 40 grand."
Yay for you.
Julian Maxfield was a showman, truly.
After all, what was the point in having all the nice things he did without being able to display them for the oohs and ahhs of jealousy in his various social groups?
A bit pathetic in her opinion, but then again, she did not deal with the man for his sparkly assets.
She prefered those of the paper variety.
"You always have had a good eye for a deal," Elena said aloud, schooling her expression into one of mild interest, "But as impressive as your jewels are, I assume they aren't the reason you called me in."
Julian chuckled, his light eyes crinkling in a way that complimented his handsome features, "Always business with you, isn't it Katalena?"
Elena crossed her legs and sat back further into the chair, "I don't like to waste time. A quality I've always assumed you appreciated."
Julian stood from his side of the desk and put the oh-so-expensive necklace back in it's perfectly preserved casing.
No doubt the thing would soon be on its way to his private home security safe, or the bank lock box he kept down in Manhattan, until he was ready to parade it around to be drooled on by his friends.
Half of her wondered what the upper class socialites would think of their dear confrère if they knew the truth of his actual wealth.
That he came not from old money, as he let them assume, but had earned his riches right here in Cailum, New York's dirty underbelly as an importer for all kinds of illegal goods.
She let the thought amuse her as Julian withdrew a packet from his desk, the manilla envelope as familiar to her as breathing.
"A new target?" she asked, uncrossing her legs so that she could reach forward and take what he offered.
"In a sense," Julian nodded, dropping back into his seat, "Though the nature of the job is less intrusive and more exploratory."
Translation, she would only be observing instead of the usual breaking and entering.
There was little info in the folder she had been given, which was also a change from the norm, and even the accompanying picture was slightly blurred.
When she flipped the few pages over to reveal nothing else, she frowned.
"A fuzzy shape, a name, and address. That's all I get? Hard to hone in on a target with so little to go on. What's the objective?"
"I just need a little feedback on the man," Julian explained, "Nothing extracted from the location this time. The address is his current residence, but it's been difficult to get private eyes on him, let alone a camera. Watch him and report back to me. That's the objective."
Elena almost scoffed at how easy that sounded.
No cutting glass and sneaking past security cameras or disarming silent alarms?
Just watching some guy in his house.
"What's the catch?" she prodded, knowing Julian too well to ever believe there wasn't something at least remotely dangerous or illegal tied to his request.
After all, that was the exact reason he usually sought her out; and paid so well for the services she provided.
"Catch?"
"You're too smart to play dumb with me, Mr. Maxfield," she waved the envelope in his direction, "So why don't you go ahead and tell me why this Damon Salvatore is so important that you want me to spy on him for you."
With a run of a hand through that perfectly cropped blonde hair, Julian smirked, "Have I ever told you how much you impress me, Katalena?"
Yep. Every time you try to "sweeten" the deal. Still not gonna happen.
"I prefer to be thorough," she said instead.
Julian nodded, "You always are. That's the reason we have this continued relationship."
Wrong.
Their relationship was a simple means to an end and she needed the cash the jobs supplied.
Elena forced a smile, "Don't hold back on me, now. Who is this guy? Really?"
Clearly sensing that she wasn't going to be swayed from the point, Julian let out a sigh and conceded to her request.
"Damon Salvatore. His father, Giuseppe, worked with me here in the states as a mediator and distributor in association with the Sicilian Mafia, before he...tragically passed away last year."
Aaaaaaand there it is.
"Damon is his only child and heir apparent to the Salvatore family fortune across the pond," Julian continued, "However, he showed up here a few months back, requesting a meet and greet. He intends to take over Giuseppe's business, but his ambition far succeeds that of his father's."
"In what way?"
"Every way," Julian elaborated, "I won't bore you with the specifics, but let's just say that he is very...entrepreneurial; with a mind toward expansion. And he's been busy. But unlike his father, he doesn't seem to be working for LCN. Yet he has to be connected to someone overseas."
Ergo, anything is possible, and Damon Salvatore could be competition.
Julian ran a very tight ship, with both sides of his life managed with great organization.
No way was he going to be thrilled that some new, younger hot shot was making a name on his turf, even if it was under the veil of comradeship.
"You want to know the game plan. Be sure he's not overstepping his place," she guessed, and from the way Julian hesitated before answering, she knew she had hit the nail on the head.
"I just want to be sure that I can trust him before we embark on any further down this business venture. There are, after all, too many pieces on the board for a rook to think it's a king."
Uh huh. Right.
She gave a little nod of her head, as if this was perfectly reasonable, and decided it didn't matter either way.
She didn't care about the specifics; the money would be worth any job.
Brushing her hair back over her shoulder, Elena stood, "Same price then?"
"Of course, to be paid upon completion," he stood as well and offered her a hand, "And it goes without saying that I expect the utmost discretion."
"Of course."
This was hardly the first job he'd contracted her for, and each time, she had met his objective without a single hitch.
To the point that her perfect delivery baffled even Julian himself.
The near misses, scraping bys, and almost too late arrivals didn't damper his faith in her.
"You're absolutely incredible!" he'd once proclaimed, after she had broken into one of the aforementioned socialite's two story brownstones and stolen back a rare crystal set he'd lost to the guy in a poker game, "Invite the man to dinner so you're alibied, then sneak away to rob him! However did you pull that off so quickly?!"
She had simply grinned and made a comment about a woman's secrets being her own.
And it was almost the truth.
She did have a secret. It just wasn't all her own.
But given the particulars of this job, that wouldn't matter anyway.
An observation and nothing else.
Easy Peasy.
The ringing of the desk's phone brought Elena's thoughts back to the present, and with a few final words of parting, she was dismissed with the dossier so Julian could take the call.
Most likely it would be his younger brother, Dr. Wesley Maxfield, who worked as a General Practitioner during the week and managed Julian's illegal financing on the weekends, calling with a status report.
Or maybe it was Caroline, Julian's stuck up, barely legal daughter.
She had been known to ring up daddy on more than one occasion for money that she just soooo desperately needed.
Either way, Elena was happy to clear the room and exit the tall office building, passing Julian's security on the way out to the street where her black Civic waited unassumingly for her return.
North Cailum didn't have the heavy stream of traffic that the TriState area was renowned for, but was close enough to the big city that it was still inconvenient to maneuver the roads during lunch hours.
Even with a decent speed on her car, it took Elena over half an hour to get home.
The modest single story was one of the better places she had leased.
It was small, but in a safe neighborhood where everyone minded their own business, and wasn't that just fine for her.
Grabbing her new case-file she climbed out of the car and was sure to lock it behind her, before finding the cover she kept folded by the porch and pulled it over the ride.
In actuality, the Honda wasn't flashy enough to really warrant the suspicious protection, but when your entire life depended on inconspicuity, it was the unspoken rule to hide anything that could be hidden.
Giving the reliable transportation a final pat as she assured that it was covered completely, Elena started up the porch steps and went to unlock the door.
It swung open before she got the chance, and her beloved roommate, partner in crime, and one half of her only family filled the space before her with wide eyes.
"She stopped breathing again, Elena! I need you!"
Soooo, first chapter!
Little A/N: The necklace described is inspired by THE necklace from the show. In future chapters, Enzo and Mason will appear as well as brothers.
And if you were confused or didn't catch it: Julian, Wes, and Caroline are all Maxfields in this story.
Lastly, Damon is Italian in this story, but is also English speaking. Because of this, I will use some Italian words/possible phrases, but I am not an Italian speaker, so forgive me if something isn't accurate!
Thanks for reading! :)